Rising in the morning <br />like warm bread, <br />from a bed <br />in America, <br />the aroma <br />of my baking <br />reaches you <br />in Italy, <br />rocking in your boat <br />near the Ponte Longo, <br />cutting through the glitter <br />of yesterday's moonlight <br />on your sunstruck <br />canal. <br /> <br />My delicious baker- <br />it is you <br />who have made <br />this hot bread <br />rise. <br />It is you <br />who have split the loaf <br />and covered it with butter. <br /> <br />I prayed to the moon <br />streaking the still lagoon <br />with her skyblue manna; <br />I prayed for you <br />to sail into my life, <br />parting the waters, <br />making them whole. <br /> <br />And here you come, <br />half captain, half baker- <br /> <br />& the warm aroma of bread <br />crosses <br />the ocean <br />we share.<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pane-caldo/
